


Clear for  Launch

by mimesere



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimesere/pseuds/mimesere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it was really hard not to like a man who touched the puddlejumpers the same way John did: equal parts admiring and possessive and just a little bit like you touched a woman you really, really liked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clear for  Launch

**Author's Note:**

> Jeez, from 2005, really?

It was hard not to like a man who had helped save your life and that was maybe the main reason John even knew who Radek Zelenka was. Plus, it was _really_ hard not to like a man who touched the puddlejumpers the same way John did: equal parts admiring and possessive and just a little bit like you touched a woman you really, really liked. Zelenka touched the puddlejumpers that way and it left John caught somewhere between chasing him away in a childish and selfish snit and thumping him on the back like a long lost brother.

Even McKay didn't touch his babies that way; he got all hot for other things, the stuff that ran the city, the stuff that would make other scientists roll over and beg for a chance to grovel at McKay's feet like they should, the weird small stuff that McKay just thought was cool. Those were the things he petted and talked to and did strange, perverted science things to. The puddlejumpers he left in Zelenka's hands and Zelenka, brilliant and observant as he obviously was, had looked up at John from behind his little glasses and demanded John come with him to the jumper bay to make himself useful.

"He knows math," said McKay, like it was a warning.

"He is not stupid," said Zelenka, like it was obvious.

John had beamed at both of them. McKay because it would annoy him and Zelenka because he was going to buy the man a drink as soon as they found someplace that a) had decent alcohol, b) would actually trade without stabbing them in the back, and c) didn't send them home to some huge life-threatening crisis. 

That was the first time after the thing with the death and John had watched as Zelenka muttered to himself over the exposed wiring in the circuit console. He put things away carefully, glaring at John and gesturing at the mess Ford and Teyla had made saving John's life. He got to work and Zelenka's glare eased down out of irritation and smoothed into thoughtfulness. 

"You know math?" he asked.

"A little," said John. 

Zelenka nodded as if it was nothing more than he expected. Then he smiled at John and patted him on the shoulder. "I am glad you are not dead, Major."

Then it became a thing, every time one of the puddlejumpers went through the gate. John'd show up in the lab after the debriefing and the all-clear from Beckett, Zelenka would look up and nod, and they'd go to the jumper bay together. Zelenka would repair things and show John how to repair other things. McKay had a fit the first time he'd come in and seen John poking around at Ancient machinery while Zelenka handed him tools and talked about interesting things you could do with a little gunpowder and a lot of ingenuity. 

"What--what--you--"

"He is doing fine, Rodney," said Zelenka. He handed John the Ancient screwdriver. "This he must know how to do."

"Must?" said John and McKay, together. McKay sounded mad and John wasn't mad, but more than a little confused. There was nothing he could learn that McKay didn't already know how to do, by instinct and a million times faster. 

"Must," said Zelenka crossly. He glanced down at the tablet resting on his knee. "That one, there, that is the pathway you are looking for."

"I do know how to fix these things," said McKay. Yep. Mad. 

Zelenka rolled his eyes. "Of course you can fix them, did I say you could not? But if you are hurt, then what? Should everyone just stand around waiting for you to fix things when it is a simple repair that anyone could do?"

"Oh." 

"Yes, oh." Zelenka pointed imperiously at the console and John went back to it, poking at glowing lines with the little glowing screwdriver. Something hummed outside the hull. "Good, good. Now in reverse, please." 

"You're teaching everyone?" asked McKay, sitting himself down next to Zelenka and taking the tablet away, looking over whatever was on there.

"All pilots," said Zelenka. "And anyone else who wants to learn."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second," said John. "Other people are doing this?" He curled his hand protectively around the console and frowned at Zelenka. This was nothing more than rank betrayal. 

"Yes, of course." Zelenka pushed his glasses up and met John frown for frown. "There are not so many people who know what to do and there are many things that go wrong. It is only sense."

Okay, so the man had a point. That didn't mean John was happy about it. He patted the nearest surface he could get his hand on, silently apologizing for letting his pretty baby get molested by a bunch of crazy pilots. Zelenka grinned at him and John stopped, a little embarrassed at being caught.

"You teach us to fly," said Zelenka. "We teach you everything else."

McKay snickered and pointed at something on the tablet. John gave him a look. A good look. A _scary_ look. McKay ignored him. That was about par for the course, but what wasn't was Zelenka nodding and pointing at another thing. It was almost always a bad sign when the two of them started talking without actually saying anything. "Guys?"

"I think you should retract the drive pods," said McKay.

"I agree," said Zelenka.

"Okay," said John. McKay did something on the tablet and the console hummed under John's hands. "Hey!"

Something started beeping. Beeping was bad. Beeping was very bad.

Zelenka shook his head. "What, is he an expert now? That is too much." He took the tablet back from McKay and did something else that made the console beep. And hum. "There."

So very bad.

McKay and Zelenka looked at him expectantly. Okay. John was okay. He just needed to retract the drive pods. Piece of cake. Zelenka had taught him to do that an hour ago. You just poked at _those_ glowing things with _that_ other glowing thing and voila, instant A on the techie geek pop quiz. 

Except that McKay and Zelenka were evil bastards who clearly thought that everyone was as smart as they were and spent all their time poking around in Ancient machine guts for kicks.

"That thing you showed me before isn't working," said John after a few minutes.

Zelenka shrugged. "It is a simulation. The control pathway I showed you earlier was damaged in freak accident. Rodney is badly wounded, dying, and you are his only hope."

"No pressure," said McKay, looking annoyingly healthy and not badly wounded at all.

"I hate you both," said John and he got to work. An hour later he was done, the drive pods were retracted, McKay was _still_ not badly wounded, and Zelenka was watching him carefully. John sat down hard and stretched. Holy shit, he thought. He'd actually done it.

"We'd be dead, you know," said McKay. "22 minutes ago."

"Hush," said Zelenka. "I did not say you were in life-threatening situation while stuck in wormhole."

"Oh! I was just badly wounded is all," said McKay, indignant. "Dying, I think you said."

Zelenka clapped him on the back. "You have made miraculous recovery, Rodney. I am very impressed."

John ignored them both and went over it all in his head, tracing over what he had done until he got back to what had to have been the original configuration, the thing Zelenka and McKay had messed with to give him a challenge. And there was a kind of pride in knowing that they had made it hard -- not as hard as it could have been, apparently, but still, it was something. He grinned at Zelenka and Zelenka grinned back, nudging his glasses up with the tip of his finger. John wondered if that was what it was like for McKay and Zelenka and the other scientists: that click when everything started falling into place and the universe made just that much more sense. 

It was a feeling he carried with him for a while and it made him indulgent when McKay went off on a tangent or when he wanted to spend just those few extra minutes taking apart some alien device that did God-knew-what. And then, when McKay looked up at him and started talking really fast about some arcane bit of physics lore like John had clue one what any of it meant, it felt a lot like John had finally figured out what he was supposed to be doing with his life. _That_ got him feeling good enough that he let McKay fly them to the gate and back home. And then, later, on the next mission out.

McKay was a better pilot than Beckett, not as good as Markham, and he was the only member of the science team who actually showed up when John had offered them lessons. It stung a little that Zelenka hadn't even bothered to come, but then he remembered about the gene and let it go; if he had been Zelenka, he wouldn't have come either. 

The jumper came alive under McKay's hands and John could feel the hum of recognition shiver in his bones. McKay cleared his throat. "Flight, this is Jumper Two, we are a go for bay launch." His voice wavered a little at the end. John smiled encouragingly.

"Jumper two," said Menzel, voice sure and firm over the radio right up until she said, "Hey!" and "Sir, you can't--". 

"Flight?" said John. The radio crackled in his ear and under that he could hear something muffled, as if someone had their hand over the microphone and was talking fast. It crackled again and they heard Menzel say, "Fine!" loud and exasperated, and then--

"Jumper two," said Zelenka, sounding breathless, "you are clear for launch."


End file.
